


Science-Approved Ways of Keeping Warm

by remy (iamremy)



Series: 12 days of wincestmas - 2020 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Banter, Car Sex, Clothed Sex, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Snowed In, Top Dean Winchester/Bottom Sam Winchester, sort of? there's no actual penetration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22242472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamremy/pseuds/remy
Summary: Sam and Dean are stuck in the Impala for the night due to bad decision-making on Dean's part and endless complaining on Sam's. It's snowing outside, it's cold as hell, and according to Dean, there's only one really effective way to keep warm.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: 12 days of wincestmas - 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601026
Comments: 8
Kudos: 115





	Science-Approved Ways of Keeping Warm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sintari (OriginalSintari)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/gifts).



> alternate title for this fic: example #5432 that dean thinks every problem can be solved with either sex or violence

“Dean, I don’t think we’re going to find another motel,” Sam says.

“No, I think we will,” Dean insists stubbornly.

“That’s what you said thirty miles ago,” Sam points out. “And twenty miles ago when I said the last motel just passed by. And then again nine miles ago–”

“Okay, okay, I get it! What do you want me to do?”

Sam shrugs. “I don’t know, man. Look–” He holds up his phone. “There are no more motels for at least a hundred miles. And I don’t think you can drive that much right now without a break. You’ve been yawning non-stop for an hour now.”

As if to prove his point, Dean yawns again. “Okay, fine, you’re right,” he admits with a groan. “Now what?”

Sam is quiet for a few moments, and then says, “I think we’re going to have to sleep in the car.”

“Sam, it’s freezing,” Dean points out. “It is literally below zero, and there isn’t enough gas to keep the car running the entire night.”

“Well, what other choice do we have?” Sam argues. “We’re literally in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t stop when I said we should!”

“So now this is my fault?” Dean demands.

“That’s not what I said!”

“Well, it’s what I heard!”

“What are you, twelve?”

“What are _you_ , six?”

“Oh, what an amazing comeback,” scoffs Sam. “So original.”

“You know what, Sam?”

“What?” Sam challenges.

Dean takes his eyes off the road to glare at him. Sam looks back, maintaining eye contact. For a moment neither of them speak – and then Dean swerves suddenly, coming to a stop on the shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks.

“Stopping, obviously,” Dean answers. He puts the car in park and engages the parking brake, before zipping his jacket up and throwing his door open. A burst of cold air hits Sam in the face, cutting off abruptly when Dean shuts the door. It really is freezing outside.

Sam watches through the windows as Dean opens the trunk, grabs an armful of blankets, and then slams it shut again. There is another burst of cold air when Dean gets in the car, except he’s in the backseat now. “Well?” he says when he notices Sam watching him. 

“Well, what?” Sam asks.

Dean rolls his eyes. “Get in the back, Sammy.”

“I’m not stepping outside,” Sam says, crossing his arms. “It's _cold_.”

The look Dean gives him would have any other man digging their own grave to lie in it. “Cold, huh,” he says flatly.

“Yeah,” mutters Sam. “It _is_. And don’t look at me like that,” he adds. “ _I_ didn’t make you go outside.”

“Didn’t hear you offering,” Dean says shortly.

“You didn’t ask,” Sam says. He takes a look around the Impala, trying to figure out if there’s space enough for him to clamber over the front seat and into the back instead of having to go outside–

“Don’t even think about it,” Dean warns.

“Ugh, _fine_ ,” says Sam with an eye-roll. There isn’t enough space, even if Dean wouldn’t throw a fit, and it looks like Sam’s going to have to go outside after all.

The air outside is even colder than Sam had previously thought, and he can’t help but tense up, muttering a curse under his breath. It only takes a few seconds for him to get in the backseat, but it’s more than enough to have him shivering as he slides in next to Dean.

One look at him and Dean’s expression softens; he reaches out to put an arm around Sam’s shoulders and pull him into his side. “Look,” he says, rubbing a hand up and down Sam’s arm. “We’ll sleep for a few hours and then be up as soon as possible, okay? And then I’ll find the next motel and we’re not leaving for a couple days at least. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” Sam says. “Yeah, okay.”

“Should’ve listened to you,” Dean says after a moment. It’s the closest to an apology that Sam’s going to get.

“It’s fine,” Sam says, and offers Dean a little smile. “We’ll be fine. We’ve done it so many times before.”

Dean chuckles, withdrawing his arm from around Sam so he can unfurl one of the blankets. “Yeah, remember when we were kids?”

Sam grins. “It was easier then.”

“Hey, your fault for being so overgrown,” Dean says lightly.

“Me?” Sam laughs. “You’re not exactly small yourself.”

Dean grins. “Damn right.” He makes sure the left side door is locked before leaning his back against it, bringing one leg up and letting it rest against the back of the seat. “Come on,” he says. “Just like old times, huh, Sammy?”

“Yeah,” says Sam, accepting Dean’s unspoken invitation. It takes some effort, but somehow he manages to arrange himself on the seat, his back against Dean’s chest and legs pulled up to his chest.

Dean wraps both arms around Sam’s middle once they’re settled. “Okay?” he asks.

“As okay as I’ll get,” Sam replies, pulling the blanket up to his chest so that it covers both of them as much as possible. “You?”

“Mm, I’m fine,” Dean answers. Sam can feel his voice vibrate in his chest when he speaks. “It’s only a few hours. You warm?”

“Warm enough,” Sam tells him. They’ve both got on at least four layers, and the heavy old blanket draped over them definitely helps. “Hey, if we’re driving again later, we should probably turn the car off. Don’t wanna waste gas.”

“No way, dude,” Dean says firmly. “We’ll freeze our asses off. I’ve got a spare canister of gas in the trunk, we’ll be fine till we can refuel.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” Sam relaxes again, letting his head fall back against Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s fingers are playing with the hem of Sam’s shirt, and absently slipping under the layers and toying with his waistband. Sam shivers a little when he feels Dean’s touch on his skin. “Your hands are cold,” he murmurs.

“They’ll warm up in a few,” Dean answers, sounding like he’s not paying much attention to the conversation.

Sam lets out a short laugh when Dean begins unbuttoning his jeans. “What, you really wanna do this right now?”

“It’s a good way to generate body heat,” Dean replies with a cheeky grin. “Huh, Sammy?”

“Fine,” Sam replies after a moment, unable to help the grin on his face in response to Dean’s. “I’m not gonna say no to that.”

“Can’t argue with science, Sammy.” Dean’s hand slips under Sam’s boxers, and Sam gasps when cold fingers touch his cock.

“Dammit, Dean!”

“Patience, Sammy,” Dean says in an infuriatingly calm tone, wrapping his hand around Sam’s cock and pulling it free.

“Your hands are _freezing_!”

Instead of replying, Dean just hums, his voice right next to Sam’s ear. Slowly, maddeningly, he moves his hand upwards, stroking Sam to full hardness, and at the same time, he starts pressing soft kisses to the underside of Sam’s jaw and his neck.

“Haven’t done this in a while,” he murmurs against Sam’s skin. “Gotten too damn busy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam answers, letting his body go loose in response to the low, soothing bass of Dean’s voice. He’s almost completely hard now, his body in tune with Dean, unable to resist. Not that he wants to. He never has. Not Dean.

“Missed this,” Dean breathes, and his voice is as effective as his hands are. Sam’s whole body is paying attention now, hyperfocused on Dean’s hands on his cock and his lips on his throat. “Soon’s we find a motel, I’m taking you to bed and not letting you go till you’re screaming my name, baby.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Sam manages to say. He’s very proud of himself for being coherent right now, with Dean’s thumb brushing feather-light over his slit, his free hand splayed across Sam’s belly.

Dean is hard too; Sam can feel it against his ass. It can’t be comfortable, he thinks, Dean’s cock trapped in his jeans and Sam’s weight on top of it. He wriggles forward a little, reaching behind himself with one hand and fumbling with Dean’s zipper.

“What are you doing?” Dean asks. He sounds amused.

“Trying to get into your pants,” Sam tells him, and then snickers at his own joke.

Dean rolls his eyes fondly. “Next time just ask nicely,” he says, removing his hand from Sam’s belly so he can help him with the button and zipper.

“Where’s the fun in that?” asks Sam as he manages to free Dean’s cock.

Dean lets out a groan from in between clenched teeth when Sam touches him. “That can’t be comfortable,” he says, looking at the way Sam’s half-twisted in Dean’s lap, trying to touch him while keeping Dean’s hand on him at the same time. It _is_ uncomfortable, but Sam’s feeling very compromising and sacrificial at the moment. Being turned on tends to do that to him.

As it turns out, even that is unnecessary; Dean takes his hand out of Sam’s pants and puts them both on Sam’s hips, gently pushing him off. “Just a second,” he says in answer to the displeased sound Sam makes in the back of his throat.

“What are you _doing_?” Sam asks, for the billionth time in just under an hour. It seems that’s his catchphrase of the night.

“Just a second,” Dean repeats, and then spits into his palm. He strokes his own cock a few times, and Sam watches, mesmerized by the movement of Dean’s hand, and the translucent drops of precome forming at the tip.

“Okay,” Dean says a few minutes later, breaking the spell. Before Sam can ask what’s up, Dean has his hands back on Sam’s hips, pulling his boxers and pants lower. Sam hisses at the sudden cold, goosebumps arising on his skin, but then Dean’s pulling him back in place, this time with his cock firm against Sam’s ass.

“Okay?” he asks, taking one hand off Sam’s waist so he can wrap it around his cock again.

“Yeah,” Sam answers, leaning back into Dean’s chest again. “Yeah, ’m fine, just - just _do_ something already.”

“Your wish is my command, you impatient little bitch,” Dean says, but there is fondness in his tone, and Sam wants to reply but then Dean thrusts, dick moving against Sam’s hole, and the sound that comes out of Sam at that is, frankly, embarrassing.

He really needs to get laid.

“Do that again,” he demands, and Dean laughs.

“You like that, huh,” he says, and moves again, and at the same time his hand on Sam moves upward, right to the tip. Sam’s hips jerk forward of their own accord, trying to get more friction against his dick, but he’s pretty much trapped against Dean, and all he manages to achieve is a pitiful kind of thrust.

“Dean, come _on_ ,” he whines, and he’d be embarrassed about that if this were any other situation, but he’s cold, and he’s horny, and all he wants is Dean inside him right now. But that’s not possible at the moment, not in cramped quarters with no lube, so he’s going to have to do with this, and keep reminding himself of Dean’s promise.

“I got you,” Dean mutters in his ear, before pressing a kiss to the angle of his jaw. At the same time he thrusts forward, dick slippery with precome and spit and sliding over Sam’s hole. “I got you, Sammy–” Twists his wrist, and Sam bites his lip as he groans. “Wanna fuck you, but–”

“Later,” Sam gasps out, reaching behind himself to grab a fistful of Dean’s shirt just for something to hold on to. His toes are already curling desperately inside his boots, his body trying to figure out if he should move backwards into Dean’s dick or forwards into his hand.

“Later,” Dean confirms, and kisses Sam’s throat. Sam turns his head, so that the next kiss is on his lips, and at the same time Dean thrusts shallowly again, dick wet and warm against Sam’s ass. His thumb is sweeping over Sam’s slit, and Sam knows he’s moaning into the kiss, and he doesn’t care at all that he’s probably loud enough to be heard outside the car. He doesn’t think he’d care even if there were someone around to hear him.

“Shit, that’s hot,” Dean mutters against Sam’s lips. “My hands still cold?”

“No,” Sam tells him, and kisses him again. Dean responds enthusiastically, tongue slipping into Sam’s mouth, and Sam opens up without resistance, letting Dean have his way.

His eyes have been closed for a while now, the world around him falling away as he lets go of thought and other higher brain functions. All he can really focus on at the moment is Dean, all around him, his mouth on Sam’s, his hands on Sam’s cock, his dick against Sam’s ass. Despite the cold, Dean’s body is warm, heat radiating even through all the layers they’re both in. Dean’s hands on Sam feel like coming home, like his heart has just restarted, like he’s learning how to breathe all over again, and Sam feels like he’s falling, falling, falling, with none of the terror and all of the adrenaline and exhilaration.

“Dean? Dean, I’m close, I’m close–”

“It’s all right, Sammy,” Dean says, pulling back to kiss the corner of his mouth. “It’s okay–” He twists his wrist, thumb skating over the head of Sam’s dick, and at the same time he thrusts, and Sam comes with a shout, body jerking as he shoots all over Dean’s hand.

A few more erratic strokes of Dean’s dick against his ass and then Dean comes too, muffling his own shout into the skin of Sam’s throat, and Sam slumps backwards against him, suddenly boneless. Dean laughs a little breathlessly, wiping his hand on Sam’s shirt, before pulling Sam’s boxers up, tucking him back into his pants, and zipping him up.

“Thanks,” Sam murmurs, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on Dean’s shoulder again.

“You’re welcome,” Dean says with a chuckle, kissing Sam’s jaw, and then he adds, “Just a second, baby, lemme do mine–”

Sam wriggles forward, giving Dean enough space to zip himself up too. “Gonna be sticky and gross for a while,” Sam says.

“We’ll shower when we get to a motel,” Dean replies, wrapping both arms around Sam’s middle again. “You warm now?“ 

Sam grins. "Yeah. You?”

“Mm-hmm,” hums Dean in response, nuzzling his nose just behind Sam’s ear. “Tired, too.”

“Yeah, same,” Sam answers, and then yawns. “Not a bad way to stay warm,” he adds.

“Like I said, can’t argue with science,” Dean replies, grinning as well. “Come on now, go to sleep. I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”

“Mm,” says Sam, and closes his eyes, pulling the blanket up to his chest again from where it had fallen around his knees. “‘Night, Dean.”

“Goodnight, Sammy.”

**Author's Note:**

> please comment and let me know what you thought! also i sure hope i tagged this right, i had no idea what other tags to use but i didn't want to leave it untagged, either.
> 
> love,  
> remy


End file.
